


Five Books The Doctor Started, Never Finished, And Now Wishes He Had

by Sab



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: (Uploaded by Punk), Books, Gen, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-02
Updated: 2006-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-03 12:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sab/pseuds/Sab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Does what it says on the tin. (Uploaded by Punk, from iamsab.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Books The Doctor Started, Never Finished, And Now Wishes He Had

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mydwynter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydwynter/gifts).



1\. _Anna Karenina_. He'd been spoilt for the ending since long before Tolstoy had even put pen to paper to write the thing, but he could never quite get why a renaissance woman like Anna, with the riches of St. Petersburg at her disposal, and the love of three powerful and dynamic men, would throw herself under a train. Some day he would take the time to read past page thirty and find out.

2\. _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_. He was in his fifth regeneration when the book came out in hardback and he'd thought not a thing of it, until he remembered visiting London as his third regeneration when the first movie'd hit the cinemas, and he recalled it being somewhat of a big deal. After the war, in his ninth regeneration, he cracked it open again. Kids' stuff, he thought, and gave his first edition to Mickey Smith.

3\. _The Velveteen Rabbit_. His clothbound edition still lived somewhere in the Tardis library, a present from Sarah Jane Smith shortly after his fifth regeneration. "It's dreadfully sad," she'd said. "And quite lovely as well. But dreadfully, dreadfully sad." The Doctor hadn't yet been in the mood for dreadfully sad, and on the days when he missed Sarah, or Harry, or K-9, or his fifth self, he found he wanted to read it even less.

4\. _Bridget Jones' Diary_. A delightful romp, so he was savoring it. One chapter per thwarting of intergalactic war.

5\. _My Life_ , all twelve volumes, penned by Giacomo Casanova. He'd picked up the edition some years ago in seventeenth century Venice, but rather than read it, he'd simply gone to sixteenth century Paris and spent two fevered weeks dancing in the wake of the Chevalier du Sein-Gault. The French knew how to party then, and haven't forgotten.


End file.
